I have naturally messy tendencies when it comes to break ups, so in true form I haven't quite moved one from college. I am in my third week of a six week summer school course. And I see him practically every day.
At first I thought we could reconnect. I had only been away for a month or so. I mean, I was in love! I finally conceded that his lifestyle was the best I'd ever get. And then we broke up, but summer school seemed like a second chance.
Turns out, once you leave...you shouldn't go back.
I think college has moved on. I think he's seeing a new gal. In fact he's seeing a whole bunch of new gals, Class 2014. She, they, seem great. He'll take her out on the town, they'll have smoke seshies together on somebody's moldy couch, get to know each other and become best friends. And in four years he'll dump her and it'll start all over again. I can see this laid out like a teenage romance novel. But I can't help if it still hurts.
When you fall in love, it's because that person makes you breathe easier and faster at the same time. That person makes you unrealistically exuberant about everyday tasks like brushing your teeth and eating lunch. He made me jump out of skin. He made me feel like the luckiest, coolest girl in the world.
And then when it ends, all you've got left is a hangover and a humanity degree.
There have been some moments though; moments of brief and mature reflection. They say: Move on. You're a graduate (almost). Throwing up on yourself and breaking things doesn't look good on you anymore. You're evolving.
College is a sexy beast. I will miss him so dearly. But going back for round .5 has made me realize we could never be together. He does his thing every four years, and I've got to go find mine.
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